


Frenemies

by McGoogleheim



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Gen, Villains helping their enemies, competitions, go-kart racing, mischef, sibling dynamics, wayward plans, wholesome content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27029917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McGoogleheim/pseuds/McGoogleheim
Summary: Unable to assist each other with their individual, upcoming competitions; the Turtles find a helping hand from the unexpected.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	Frenemies

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is mostly for practice and self-indulgent purposes, though I hope you enjoy it :)

It was a pleasant Friday morning in New York City. The sun was out, the birds were singing, and the faint sounds of laughter came bubbling up from depths of the city's sewers.

Leo laid on his bed, kicking his legs to-and-fro, surrounded by his collection of joke-books. He flipped through the dog-eared pages, snickering over his favorite one-liners and puns while scribbling them down on a mess of crinkled papers.

Run of the Mill Pizza was hosting an upcoming open mic night, and Leo had eagerly entered his name - much to Señor Hueso's dismay. The best act of the night not only won free pizzas for the rest of the year but bragging rights! (And Leo loved the right to brag). He glanced over at the promotional flyer he 'borrowed' from the pizzeria's bulletin board, now taped to the wall among his _Jupiter Jim_ posters.

He only had until tomorrow night to prepare for his act. The clock was ticking, and Leo's stomach growled anxiously. If he were to take this whole thing seriously, he would _definitely_ need something to snack on while he sorted through his best material.

Rolling out of bed, Leo headed for the kitchen. His face was still buried in his joke-sheets when someone called out his name. He looked up and came face-to-face with a disgruntled Mikey; the box turtle was donning an orange apron and matching chef's hat.

"What took you so long?!" Mikey puffed, his hands resting on his hips, tapping his foot. "I've been waiting for you for the past half hour!"

Leo surveyed the scene and noticed an array of baking equipment and ingredients cluttering the kitchen island, "You bakin' somethin', Miguel?" He asked cluelessly.

"You forgot, didn't you?" Mikey grumbled accusingly. He reached into the pocket of his apron and pulled out a page torn out from a cooking magazine, "Tomorrow's the _Big Bakeoff_ , and _you said_ you were going to help me master my chocolate soufflé!"

Before Leo could answer, Donnie's head popped into the doorway, "Excuse me, Michael, but what's this about a _baking competition_ when you said you were going to be _my_ co-pilot for this weekend's _Go-Kart Tourney_? I've already drawn up the blueprints!" The softshell dramatically stretched out a long scroll covered with elaborate diagrams and formulas.

"I'm sorry, Dee," Mikey winced, "But this is the first time I can enter a baking competition by myself. I couldn't pass up the chance to debut _Chef Confidence!_ "

Donnie sighed, "It's cool, it's cool. I _suppose_ I'll just have to settle for Leo-"

" _Nuh-uh_!" Mikey gestured at his baking station, "Leo's said he was gonna help _me_!"

"Um, correction, I **was** gonna help you." Leo had snuck off into the fridge while Donnie and Mikey kept each other distracted. "I've gotta get ready for tomorrow's open mic night down at Run of the Mill Pizza!" He closed the fridge with the back of his foot, his arms filled with an assortment of food.

" _What the what?!_ " Mikey exclaimed. "But you said you'd help me!"

"And _you said_ you'd help _me_!" Donnie pointed at Mikey.

It wasn't until Raph cleared his throat that any of them noticed their older brother standing behind them, a smug look on his face as he watched his siblings squabble.

" _Tsk, tsk, tsk_ ," Raph shook his head, "See what happens when nobody checks in with each other's plans? Didn't I tell you guys to start using the calendar I bought?" He gestured over toward the Teddy Bear Town calendar mounted on one of the cabinet doors.

Donnie waved off the comment and looped his arm around Raph's, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, say _Raphalo_? How would _you_ like to help me win this weekend's _Go-Kart Tourney_ , hmmm? I'll even let you pick out which novelty automobile horn to install!"

"Hold it, _Hoss_!" Mikey grabbed onto Raph's other arm and tried pulling him away from Donnie. "Raph can't help _you_ cuz he's gonna be too busy helping _me_ taste-test my chocolate soufflé!"

Leo nibbled thoughtfully on a log of salami, "Y'know, come to think of it; I _could_ use an audience-"

"Sorry fellas, but no can do," Raph brushed Donnie and Mikey off of him. "Your big brother - aka Red Reign - has already entered this weekend's _Big Barbell Bonanza!_ " The snapping turtle proudly presented an extravagant flyer depicting Jessica Jaclyne single-handedly lifting an impossible number of barbells.

" _Nice_ \- hey, wait a second," Leo blinked, "Does this mean I'll have _nobody_ to practice my jokes on?"

"And _I_ won't have anyone tell me whether or not I mistook salt for sugar?" Mikey pouted.

"Hey, how 'bout that? We really _do_ rely on each other for almost everything, huh?" Donnie shrugged indifferently. "Well, good luck to all of you! If you need me - which is _most unfortunate_ since I'll be terribly busy - Shelldon and I will be in the garage~" And with that, Donnie tucked his blueprints away and strutted out of the kitchen, whistling a confident tune.

Mikey turned back to Raph, "Are you _sure_ you can't help me? I'll even let you lick the bowl!" He flashed his best puppy-dog eyes but to no avail.

"Sorry, big man," Raph sympathetically patted Mikey on the shoulder. "As tempting as that sounds, Red Reign has a strict diet regiment to begin: smoothies!" He then gathered whatever food he could find in the fridge (that wasn't already in Leo's arms), as well as one of the cartons of eggs Mikey planned on using.

"Hey! I need those!" Mikey protested, watching Raph take off with the blender in the crook of his arm. "And what kind of person makes a smoothie with string beans, passionfruit, and eggs anyway?"

" _Raph_ ," Leo answered, polishing off a block of cheese.

"I heard that! And that's _Red Reign_ to you!" Raph corrected from down the hall.

Mikey turned back to his baking station and let out a crestfallen sigh, catching Leo's attention. The slider placed his snacks down on the counter and offered Mikey a one-armed hug.

"Hey, you got this, _hermano_!" Leo reassured, smiling down at his younger brother. "Why, if anyone can ace this soufflé business, it's you!"

Mikey perked up, "Really? You think so?"

"Sure!" Leo smirked, "All you _knead_ to do is _rise_ to the occasion!" He winked at Mikey, expecting a laugh for his clever wordplay but only received crickets and an unamused scowl.

" _Yeesh_ , tough crowd," Leo grumbled. He retrieved his snacks from the counter and promptly took his leave, reciting a string of terrible jokes as he headed back to his room.

Mikey opened his copy of _Baking with Rupert Swaggart_ and flipped through the pages until he found the _Dangerously-Decadent Chocolate Soufflé's_ intimidating recipe. Determined to prove himself capable, Mikey tightened his apron and adjusted his chef's hat.

"You can do this," he told himself, "You're _Chef Confidence_! How hard can this be?"

* * *

Donnie, accustomed to working alone, had already finished installing his go-kart's engine when he heard the smoke alarm go off in the kitchen; the faint, panicked cries from Mikey followed soon after.

Shelldon floated down beside Donnie, "Woah, dude. Sounds like Mikey's havin' it rough."

Not surprised that his younger brother was already facing mishaps, Donnie lifted his welding-mask and activated his tech-gauntlet, "Hey, Computer? Initiate kitchen sprinkler-system."

" _Initiating: kitchen sprinkler-system_ ," A robotic voice responded.

Donnie flipped down the welding-mask and reached for his blowtorch when Mikey's shouts grew wild and intense. Donnie grimaced; clearly, the sprinklers were not helping.

"Computer! Deactivate kitchen sprinkler-system," Donnie ordered urgently.

The hissing of the sprinklers ceased, and with it, Mikey's colorful yelling. Fearing the repercussions, Donnie hastily piled his supplies into the trunk of his go-kart and hopped into the driver's seat.

Donnie turned to Shelldon, fastening his seatbelt, "I think now's a good time to see how street legal our magnificent chariot is, wouldn't you say so?" The softshell wrapped a purple driving scarf around his neck and adjusted his karting helmet accordingly.

"Yeah! I'm down with that!" Shelldon nodded, expressing his excitement in the form of several loop-de-loops.

Donnie gunned the engine, pleased with the way it roared. He stepped on the gas, and the entire go-kart collapsed in a heap; smoke seeping out from underneath the hood.

Stunned, Donnie shook his head and composed himself, "Okay, new plan. We take this baby to the junkyard and look for some spare parts to keep it from doing _that_ again."

"I like the way you think, Dee!" Shelldon helped load the dilapidated go-kart into the Turtle Tank. Before Donnie could climb down the Tank's hatch, the garage door lifted, revealing Raph in his Red Reign outfit.

"Yo, Donnie! You going somewhere?" Raph asked.

"If by _'going somewhere'_ you mean _'avoiding the consequences of my well-intentioned gesture,'_ then maybe. Otherwise, who wants to know? I'm incredibly busy, after all."

"D'you think you can give me a lift to the Kaufman Coliseum? Qualifiers start in an hour, and I wanna get there early!"

Donnie shrugged, "Sure. Why not? That's on the way to the junkyard, anyway. Hop in!"

Raph climbed into the Tank after Donnie. The softshell couldn't help but notice his brother's fascinating choice of travel mug as they took their seats, "What exactly _is_ that you've got in there?"

"It's a protein smoothie I blended up just a few minutes ago!" Raph answered proudly, swirling the dark-green concoction. He peeled off the lid of the blender's pitcher and took an enormous swig. He instantly regretted it. Raph's face twisted as he forced himself to swallow the unbearable mouthful. "W-want some? It's a Red Reign s-specialty!" He offered Donnie the pitcher, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

Donnie grinned, thoroughly amused, "Oh no, I couldn't _possibly_ divvy away your sustenance, especially when you're going to need your strength for all those barbells!"

"R-Right, the barbells. _Do it for the barbells_ ," Raph shuddered as he slowly brought the pitcher back to his lips. "Er, how 'bout you, Shelly? Did you want in some of this?" He offered his 'smoothie' to the purple turtle-drone.

Shelldon slowly drifted away from Raph's seat, "Uh, no offense, dude, but that stuff looks _groady_."

Donnie flipped a few switches on the console board, then turned the keys in the ignition; the Tank humming to life, "Alright, everyone buckle-up! Oh, and Red Reign? Try not to spill any of that, okay?"

"Red Reign will... do his best," Raph's smile faltered as he took a hesitant sip from the pitcher.

And off they went.

* * *

"Hey, _buddy_?" Leo peered into the kitchen, "Could you maybe _tone it down_ a little bit? It's hard to focus on my punchlines when there's so much _screaming_ going on, and- oh, **WOW** , it's a lot worse than I imagined!"

The kitchen was an absolute mess with chocolate batter spattered on almost every surface: the cabinets, the walls, and even the ceiling. Broken eggshells littered the floor, and there were puddles of water everywhere.

Mikey stood by the stove, unmoving and covered in flour. He stared blankly down at what Leo could only assume were the remnants of his chocolate soufflé: a soggy, burnt pile of sludge.

Fortunately for Leo, he knew just the thing his brother needed to uplift his spirits. He approached Mikey and offered him a cheese grater.

"What's this for?" Mikey asked numbly.

"I just wanted to let you know that despite your setbacks, I think you're _grate_ -" Leo flinched under Mikey's venomous glare, "-On second thought, maybe I'll go rehearse somewhere outside! It's a beautiful day out, and you know what they say about the fresh air! It's _airy_ good for you!"

Leo backed away from Mikey and slipped on an eggshell, "Woah! _Yoke's_ on me! I guess I'll just make like an egg and _beat it_ -"

" _GET YO' STANK PUNS OUTTA MY KITCHEN_!" Mikey's temper flared, thanks to _Dr. Delicate-Touch_. He wielded a rolling pin and threatened to lob it at Leo, who fled the scene.

Panting, Mikey leaned against the counter and took a moment to calm himself down. He then assessed the damages done to the kitchen. It was an overwhelming sight that left him deflated, much like his soufflé. It would probably take hours to clean-up everything, and Mikey didn't have that kind of time, especially when he still needed to run out to the grocery store to buy more ingredients.

"I'll deal with this whole situation when I get back," Mikey told himself. "Maybe some fresh air _will_ do me some good." He cast aside his dirty apron and chef's hat, then left a polite note on the fridge door:

_"Will clean up later! - Chef Somewhat-Confident."_

Mikey was about to leave until he caught sight of his waterlogged cookbook on the kitchen island. He carefully held the book in his hands and brushed a thumb across the damp cover, wiping off a smudge of cocoa powder from Rupert Swaggart's headshot.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off inside Mikey's brain, his smile returning even brighter than ever.

"Watch out, baby! _Chef Confident's_ makin' a comeback!" Mikey beamed, snatching up his apron and chef's hat once again. Clutching his cookbook close to his chest, Mikey raced out of the kitchen - an exuberant ball of energy.

He could only hope his favorite celebrity chef would be willing to help his number one fan.


End file.
